


What Happened at Bouge Manger

by neverendingdrums



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Love, My First Smut, Smut, Some Humor, titleofyoursextape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:03:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverendingdrums/pseuds/neverendingdrums
Summary: The events that took place between 'four kamikaze shots!' and 'title of OUR sex tape'.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm happy to leave this as a one-shot, or follow up with a smutty second chapter. Will take feedback to make a decision on this! This is my first fanfiction here- please leave me feedback, especially regarding character portrayal.

It was a mild evening in the streets of Brooklyn and amidst the queasy smell of gasoline and cigarettes, the honk of yellow taxis and the city lights flickering on in the fading light, the previously unthinkable was happening- Amy Santiago stood outside Bouge Manger in a red dress, waiting for a date with her partner-in-fighting-crime, Jake Peralta.

To the casual passers-by, the young, beautiful woman looked anxious, standing awkwardly by the door, but to Amy herself, it was far more so.

Her heart thudded uncomfortably and unusually loudly as she checked her watch outside the medium-priced, mid-town restaurant, noting the time for the second time.

1920.

Ten minutes early for the first official- actually ‘romantical stylez’- date with Jake Peralta. She bit her lip, then immediately cursed her anxious tendencies for ruining her lipstick- what did she take makeup tips from her niece for?- and reapplied. _Without a mirror? Oh Amy, that was a risk._

The warm evening breeze rustled the leaves on the nearby tree. A man in a ratty hoody that looked horribly like Jake- no, it couldn’t be- was walking toward her in the faint orange glow from the streetlamps. As he came closer, she noticed with relief and disgust that it was not him. He did, however, shoot her a sneer and a whistle as he slouched past in dirty sneakers. She narrowed her eyes at him and clenched her badge reassuringly in the pocket of her bag. Just because she was off the clock didn't mean she couldn't arrest him if he did something as dodgy as he looked.

As soon as the edge of danger was gone, the gnawing pit of stress returned to her stomach. She checked her watch again compulsively. 1921. How could only a minute have gone by?

Amy fidgeted, then sighed and took her watch off altogether. It was going to achieve nothing but put her even more on edge. It took all her willpower not to check it again.

It’s just light and breezy, she told herself. It’s not a big deal, just another date. Just a dinner date with someone whom she liked for ages, who liked her, who made her laugh, who was a police colleague- and someone who sat opposite her desk, not just someone in a different precinct, like Teddy! What was she thinking? This was going to go down in flames. It would be so awkward at work…

_Stop spiralling!_ she told herself firmly, gathering her willpower briefly before it crumbled upon seeing a familiar face get out of a taxi. Briefly fighting then succumbing to the urge, she brought the rejected watch out again and attempted to check it surreptitiously. 1923. Surprising. Jake was seven minutes early- this was a first. In fact, the last time she remembered him being early for something, he arrived eleven minutes early for work, then proceeded to put on a ponytail wig, a pantsuit and announced he was the ‘King of Punctuatily’ (horrendous) and worst of all (the sting in the tail), the sub-title taunt ‘Your Late’. She cringed when she arrived one minute later and saw that godforsaken pink and yellow punctuality sign punctuated with serious spelling and grammatical errors.

She smiled slightly to herself at the memory, briefly encouraged, and watched him thanking the taxi driver, as he rummaged for a scanty tip in his surprisingly nice suit, finally pressing a few notes, and handful of quarters and some lint into his outstretched hand. He turned, smiled a goofy but undeniably charming grin and began his approach in what felt like slow motion.

T minus twenty seconds until contact. Her heart beat faster.

At T minus thirteen, she remembered she forgot to bring her backup packet of mints. At T minus five, she realised she didn’t know how they were going to greet.

‘Amy!’ he smiled and began leaning in for…what?

‘Jake.’

It looked like it was fast becoming a kiss, but halfway through she realised it was an awkward handshake and he leaned back, as Amy went in for a hug. The result was the most awkward one-armed hug she had ever experienced, and that was even counting the time when Holt had reached around her for a pencil and she hugged him.

The two were silent in a double cringe. Jake silently cursed himself for second-guessing himself, but the truth was he was so taken aback to spot Amy watching him unceremoniously tip the taxi driver that he accidentally gave him a coupon to one of Charles’ insane intestine restaurants in with the notes. Thankfully she didn’t seem to be wearing her glasses so he prayed silently she skipped the contacts too.

‘You look…nice’, he fumbled. Truth was, she looked absolutely beautiful in a dress with her hair down and the flush from the awkward greeting slowly fading from her cheeks, but his internal balance between sincerity and teasing was out of order for once.

‘You do too,’ she replied too quickly, smiling and tucking her hair behind her ears. _Double tuck. Good start, Peralta._

‘Shall we, um, head in then?’ he said. Moments later, they were sat at a table with a white tablecloth, the waitress smiling knowingly at the pair sitting a rigid three feet apart, unnaturally absorbed in the fancy-looking menus as uncomfortably fancy music played softly in the background. Part of him desperately wished they could just be throwing peanuts to each other on the roof, back when they liked each other just enough that they didn’t realise it.

_Be mature_! He told himself. _What would John McClane do? Not sit here like an awkward idiot, that’s for sure._

‘So, here we are… officially on a date… a romantical date.’

Amy nodded.

‘Yes, we are… no longer just colleagues…dating… you got a haircut! It looks nice.’ Truth was, it really did look nice, and she was relieved to have something to comment on to continue conversation.

‘Oh, thanks, you also got a haircut… at some point in your life, I’m sure-‘

_Last year, actually, Jake?_ He must have read her expression and changed tack rapidly.

'- that’s not your baby hair, that would be crazy but uh… you look very nice,’ Jake babbled.

‘Doumo arigatou,’ replied Amy awkwardly, with a terrible Japanese accent.

Jake looked surprised and thankfully tried to pass it off.

‘Do you speak Japanese?’

‘No…’ Amy replied.

An awkward silence stretched on, like the short few seconds were under an excruciating magnifying glass. Jake broke it, with- for once- sincerity and not a joke.

‘Um… sorry I think I’m feeling a little awkward.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ Amy was relieved to answer.

‘How do we make it… not weird?’

Amy already knew. She had being eyeing that menu out of the corner of her eye for some time after ‘baby hair’.

‘Let’s just get super drunk,’ she suggested. Jake did not hesitate.

‘Yes, great idea!’

He silently thanked whoever graced this world with alcohol - _was it just someone who ate some rotten fruit and accidentally got drunk? Dammit, focus up, Peralta!_ \- and picked the first alcoholic drink he saw. Kamikaze shots. Vodka, lime and sour candy. Perfect.

‘Pardon me, ma’am, could you bring us four kamikaze shots?’ he told the waitress, who thankfully said nothing but raised her eyebrow slightly.

‘And four for me!’ added Amy added quickly, surprising him briefly. For the nervous wreck she could be at work sometimes, Amy was not shy around drinking. He found it adorable all those times she tried to prove herself a partying badass and always ended up looking sweeter than usual.

He made a mental note to text Gina- she was an expert on the Santiago-drunkenness scale and he did not want to screw this night up.

 

**One shot later**

 

The poisonous-looking green shots arrived and Jake kicked himself. _Sour candy? Come on, it was sour mix_ \- that’s what you get for only reading fifteen books.

‘Oh man, that was sour,’ said Amy, a look of disgust crinkling her nose adorably as she gulped it in one. Jake likewise took his and felt it burn his throat and caused his eyes to water. He sniffed, wiped his eyes and coughed slightly, half-heartedly pretending it was asthma. Amy chuckled slightly to herself as she watched Peralta pretend to enjoy it. A likely story.

He noticed and went in for the attack instead.

‘So Amy, did you like your shot?’ he said with a cheeky grin, instantly teasing. She shrugged slightly, her competitive instinct kicking in.

‘Didn’t even taste that strong, really. Like juice,’ she attempted to brag. _Ugh, she didn't even like juice- it was just begging for cavities._

‘Yeah, me too, pretty tasty actually. Reminds me of the time I had a whole tray of shots in college,’ Jake retaliated, trying to sound blasé.

_Well, at someone’s college party and he only made it through seven before he started puking rainbows on the next-door neighbours’ dog, but Amy didn’t need to know that._ They both looked at each other briefly, then picked up a second, raised it slightly and downed it with slightly less wincing than before.

 

**Two down, two to go**

 

‘So Peralta, did you really think that the Kamikaze was the strongest on the menu?’ said Amy too loudly, her eyes focussed a little to the left. Probably no contacts then.

‘Because it seems to me that these shots are barely even alcoholic!’

The room began to spin a little as Jake tried to come up with a crafty reply. The old ladies at the table next to them were staring at their row of shots disapprovingly and one of them pursed her lips tightly before whispering to the other. _Bingpot._

‘Trying to call me a light-weight, Santiago? Because I bet I can still Sherlock Holmes the two ladies next to us better than you, because I’m the Ultimate Detective Slash Genius,’ he tried to boast in a poor English accent but whispered too loudly. Amy scoffed blurrily, her lipstick slightly smeared on the glass of the last shot.

‘Oh really, son? Because I don't remember you winning The Heist since last year, Dad did’, her eyes glinting mischievously at her sick burn, not even noticing her mistake.

‘Ha, nice Fredian slip, genius,’ he retorted gleefully.

‘It’s a _Freudian_ slip, idiot.’ _Damn, he thought he won that. Santiago 1: Peralta 0. How did he lose that one?_

‘One of the ladies is wearing an engagement and a wedding ring, and the other only a bracelet. We’ll call them Diana von Cadela and Gertrude Schmidt. Fact number one- Diana has no wedding ring. Fact number two: she is wearing a short, black lacy dress and more makeup than is normal for her advanced age. Fact number three: her phone just lit up with three Tinder matches and two texts from John and one from Garry. Conclusion: She’s an escort!’ he hissed triumphantly.

‘You think that Diana IS AN ESCORT?’ she said loudly, causing Gertrude to wince and adjust her hearing aid while shooting a poisonous glare. Jake cursed Two-Drink Amy under his breath. Loud Amy. He knew that.

‘Well, Peralta, you’re so wrong on that. The photo of an older man on the inside of her purse and her kids suggests SHE’S A WIDOW,’ she bellowed. They looked at each other, narrowing their eyes and slammed the third Kamikaze as Diana began crying at the next table into Gertrude’s shoulder.

 

**Shot the Third**

 

‘Amy, I’m going to the bathroom’, Jake said sloppily as he accidentally tugged the tablecloth slightly as he stood up.

‘Fine, Peralta, put on your next layer of makeup to cover that burn I gave you earlier’, she said, giggling slightly.

‘Oh Amy, you know that I can’t do it as well as your niece! Did she do yours tonight too?’ he shot back, promptly tripping on Diana’s handbag uncannily placed right next to their table.

That hit a little close to home, but Amy’s brain wasn’t as quick as Jake’s in a pinch.

‘Well… well… it’s better than yours!’

‘Jokes on you, because I’m a natural woman who don’t need no makeup!’ Jake blurted, clicking his fingers and retreating to the bathroom.

Amy sat at the table looking at the pictures as the warmly lit room spun slightly in a pleasant haze. The classical music had given way to some light jazz and though she had truly tried to listen to some jazz to suck up to - no, _connect with_ \- Captain Holt, she was not a fan. Still, she hummed badly along to the saxophone solo, swaying her shoulders unconsciously side to side. There was even a French horn part! Sober Amy would have been to embarrassed to dance- except for her signature dork moves- but Three-Drink Amy was a Linetti, Queen of Dance.

‘You got this, girl,’ she told herself under her breath and closed her eyes.

 

*****

 

‘Gina. C’mon girl, I really need your help,’ Jake slurred, holding his phone tightly to his ear in the surprisingly clean bathroom. Gina’s voice was still loud even issuing through the tiny speaker.

‘Nah uh. I will not tell you anything unless you tell me who this date is, what she looks like and whether she can get me backstage passes to Beyonce,’ Gina drawled back at him.

‘Gina! You know if I’d date anyone, it’s someone who’d get me T-Swift passes,’ he retorted, briefly distracted.

‘Fiiine.’ Jake took the brief pause in her Linetti monologue as a sign to continue. The words that had been sitting tense in his chest that he had only shared with Charles seemed to loosen with the couple of drinks. This was it. The big date with Amy and he was too awkward, too idiotic to do this right.

‘Well, it’s this girl I’ve liked for a while, but she’s had a few drinks and I haven't really done this too o-‘

‘Aww, so it’s Amy then!’

_How did she do it?_ Jake immediately tried to backpedal. Shame that definitely did nothing, even on his teenage BMX bikes.

‘No way! The only way I’d go on a date with Amy is if it were a date to the post office, she’s the only one that knows how to use stamps. But seriously, why are they called stamps if you stick them on?’ he said as his tipsy hyperactive brain began hurtling off in a different direction.

‘Earth to Jake. Amy is into you. Seriously, I know. I saw her straightening the crumbs on your desk.’

‘But man, what if she regrets this because she’s drunk and it’s all a mistake and oh, god-‘

‘Ja-cob Pe-ral-ta. Go out there and talk to her. You know why this is going to work? Because Queen G told you it would. By the way, if she’s three drinks in, go save her from her own moves before she knocks the bar down,’ she said, hanging up before he had a chance to reply.

The line went dead. Damn Gina.

The door creaked open, and a girl in a blue cocktail dress walked in, and immediately stared at him open-mouthed. _Shit, Peralta, good solve. No urinals!_

 

*

 

Jake returned from the bathroom, beaming brightly with an air of not quite being there and almost hitting a passing waiter. She smiled and waved back, not even noticing the slight jazz hands she was doing, although he did.

‘Ah, Dance Pants Sants,’ he joked, sitting back down.

‘Oh, come on, Peralta, only because you have no moves. Also “Sants” is a terrible nickname and you’d know it if you weren’t such a lightweight,’ she replied, raising a sassy eyebrow and continuing the jazz hands with no shame.

‘I don't need no dance moves when I have the power of song,’ Jake retorted, closing his eyes thoughtfully and beginning the next jazz hit with a mock look of concentration, clicking his fingers.

‘Ska boo ba de ow, jazz. Bup bup on a date with Sants. Blap bow.’ Amy snorted and immediately choked on the fourth drink she had begun sipping. He opened his eyes and looked incredulously. She was still dancing. Shame she looked so adorable when she was doing a quintessential Santiago dork dance.

‘Let me show you how to dance, just like that date from the bet YOU LOST’, Jake said, finally mustering up the courage to take one of Amy’s small hands in an effort to stop the terrible dancing. She playfully snatched it out of his hands and raised her eyebrows again in false defiance.

Jake’s heart fell further than Gruber in _Die Hard_.

She wasn’t comfortable with this date. He’d ruined it. The night, along with any chance the beautiful woman in front of him would actually want a relationship with him.

He stared at the last shot in front of him and drank it anyway. When he looked up again, he was surprised and hopeful to see that Amy’s face was much closer than before, so close he could see each individual dark eyelash framing her deep brown eyes. Her face was slightly flushed and her full lips parted, this time from alcohol and not embarrassment. His stomach flipped. _God, she’s so beautiful._

She was leaning in so, so close, until Jake was on the verge of hyperventilating when she suddenly tilted her head to the right.

‘You don’t get to touch Mama until I’ve had my fourth drink’ she whispered in his eyes, her lips tickling slightly and her hair touching his shoulder. Goosebumps prickled under his suit. Perhaps it had meant to sound like banter but somehow, it warmed him up and woke him up just as much as the Kamikaze shot. She looked up at him through those dark lashes, winked- _aw, well actually she blinked_ \- and then downed the fourth, not breaking eye contact the whole time.

 

**All four**

 

‘So, Jake Peralta, when did you decide you wanted this?’ Amy slurred in a voice like honey, leaning in closer and gesturing to herself, not noticing the slight green stain from the shot on the front of her dress. She was so close he could smell her coconut shampoo. A crazy part of him that wasn’t on fire by how close she was wondered if Charles were right about that hair washing thing he always went on about. Her smoky eyes were filled with playfulness and challenge.

‘Well, Amy Santiago, it was probably the kinky part of me attracted to an insane grammar Nazi’, he slurred right back, immediately cursing himself for the joke. His mom would’ve killed him. Amy did that slow smile and leaned closer still. One foot away.

She was warm all over, slow, relaxed and at the same time, alive. She could see him still trying to make jokes to make light of his feelings and alleviate the sexual tension, but his soft, longing eyes were telling her more. This was never just platonic. He wanted her so much, but was still holding back. She leaned in closer, until she could feel his uneven, shallow breaths on her face. She tilted her head slightly, and fixed her eyes on his. The doubt and awkwardness had vanished.

But even fourth-drink Amy was not letting Jake have one for nothing.

Jake couldn’t believe that after months of bad imagination- shamefully he’d been through far, far too much of the Latina section of PornHub- of all the ways he and Amy would get together, that this was really happening. For all the makeup jokes, she looked so damn beautiful. Her caramel skin glowed in the dim lighting and her unfocused eyes were smoky and dreamy. Her deep brown eyes were fixed hazily on his own, her red lips parted. He never wanted her so much in that moment.

For the second time that night, her lips betrayed him as she instead whispered softly in his ear:

‘How about we go back to mine and you can show me your John McClane moves?’ They stood up abruptly and began lurched for the door, Santiago sending him a coy half-smile and lightly tapping him on the ass. He yelped in surprise. Damn. If he weren’t so turned on right now, he’d be laughing at what a perve Four-Drink Amy was.

 

*****

 

The cool night spun a little for Jake Peralta with the windows rolled down on their way back as the taxi sped through the night.

_Wait, were they going to Amy’s house? His house? Was this really happening?_

He turned to her, her staring back at him, head tilted back with half-shut eyes. He longed to push back the small lock of her dark hair that was over her cute nose, that she certainly would’ve herself if she were sober and therefore obsessed with maintaining the perfect bun. Her expression, always so easily readable, was masked in the shadows and it threw him off.

‘Ames, what are we doing? Are you sure? I don’t even know we’re where goi-‘

‘Shhh-shhh-shhh,’ she hushed librarian-style, holding a finger to his lips. _Not gonna lie, that turned him on more than it should have._

‘I already told you, we’re going back to mine. And, by the way, you used the wrong ‘where’ and ‘we’re’’, she added

_How could she even know that? We were talking!_

Meanwhile, Amy studied Jake in the dark of the taxi, who for all his childish bragging about taking girls home was looking a little like a puppy dog at a children’s birthday party. Happy but a little confused and a lot overwhelmed. But the thing she noticed most was how his eyes roamed her face and didn’t leave.

 

*****

 

Now it was Jake’s turn for his heart to thud uncomfortably in the dark outside of Santiago’s door, the silence between them punctuated by the sound of traffic and a distant dog barking. Once this happened, there was no turning back. If he could rely on anything, it was his ability to hijack a moment and downplay it into comedy. A sneaky kiss in evidence lockup was one thing. He could imagine it now.

_‘So Santiago, how did it feel to finally have your first kiss?’_

But sex was another thing altogether. Sex with Amy… he had dreamed about her laugh, her smile, her curves, her body on his… _her_ for so long, that he couldn’t downplay that, ever, not even to himself. He would never admit it to anyone- hell, it took him four drinks to even think that thought- but it wouldn’t be Amy that freaked out at work tomorrow, it would be him. He would be broken if after everything, she decided it wasn’t right, it wasn’t professional and she found someone smarter that deserved her.

This ran through his feverish head as Amy just stared at him on her doorstep. Jake looked like he was frozen on the verge of panic- yet strangely, there was unmistakeable sincerity in his eyes. He was clearly hoping against hope and fighting the urge for a humorous out that would ruin the moment.

Amy sighed internally. God, he was so stupid sometimes. For a brilliant detective, he sure was dumb at piecing together every clue, every awkward stare he had caught her in, the neutral way she used to ask about Sophia (Amy knew she had no poker face) and concluding the inevitable, that she too had taken forever to realise- that she really liked Jake. Then again- she thought, as the final flush of alcohol hit her brain and her body- there was that spark of more than just friendship and respect, that sweet and unexpected chemistry between them that she longed to finally ignite. He was safe, he was warm, he was the one to make her laugh… he was Jake.

‘Ames,’ he started. Her stomach jolted. He had never called her that before.

‘Jake, I-‘

‘Are you sure you want this? That we’re breaking a rule and it’s not a mistake? Because Amy, I can’t go back to just-‘ he continued desperately. Amy grabbed him by the collar of that uncharacteristically nice suit. She could smell the faint sting of the Kamikaze shots and the spicy warmth of some cologne he was wearing. It didn’t smell like it came from a cheap Asian grocery store, for once.

‘Jake. I’m sure of this. I’m sure about you.’

His face visibly flooded with relief.

‘Ames.’


	2. The couple on the doorstep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy and Jake disembark the taxi... and head into Amy's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but the next will be up in the next three days. Patience will be rewarded with smut.

On the front doorstep of 21st Street, Jake and Amy leaned in to each other at last, smiling, and kissed in the still, warm night. 

It was the Brooklyn fairytale cliché- the two once strangers, once partners, once friends and now, something more- standing on the doorstep in the anonymity of the passer-bys, oblivious to the city and anything except each other. The yellow taxis rolled by and the nearby homeless man flicked his cigarette butt carelessly into the trash-filled gutter. The world continued to turn further into the night, uncaring and indifferent, but to Jake and Amy, their lives could not have become more different. The kiss meant there was the hope that something new could be found together. 

They stood still for a couple of moments after their lips slowly parted, just smiling and breathing in the other until the endless moment was rudely interrupted by a couple of teenagers banging on the window yelling ‘Get a room!’

Bumped suddenly back to Earth like a sack of potatoes, Amy blushed furiously and Jake’s smile just widened. He opened his mouth to yell back.

‘Oh we’ll get a room! We’ll get a room all over you!’ 

His shout cut the otherwise quiet-ish night (for Brooklyn) and Amy grimaced a little.

‘They’re just Mrs. Ladimski’s kids. They’re always like that. I just ignore it,’ she muttered.

‘Also, that doesn’t make sense at all, Jake,’ she added. He had turned that smile back to her and looked ecstatic, like a kid at Christmas.

‘I don’t care. Tonight I get to smush booties with Amy Santiago!’ 

He saw the look on her face.

‘FINE! Boink Amy Santiago. Your preferred term.’

Her expression could not wipe the cheesy grin off his face.

Amy rolled her eyes in her signature Santiago style, but she was smirking again. 

‘Let’s head up then, Jake.’

The deep pit of his stomach exploded with excitement as she unlocked the door and the two walked toward the elevator, holding hands the whole time. 

*

As they entered Amy’s apartment, Jake couldn’t help noticing everything in a different light to that disastrous Thanksgiving. Everything was neat and tidy, it didn't smell like burnt diapers (AKA Amy’s horrendous cooking) and he shrewdly noted the benchtops of a perfect height. 

Somehow he thought that someone as cautious and deliberate as Amy would perhaps stop, hang up her bag, place her keys carefully on the key holder, set her alarms, check the lock on the door and do a million other slow and grandma-ish things, but to his surprise and excitement, she just looked over her shoulder at him, her hair flicking out in a soft shiny wave, looked at him with those eyes - Jake was instantly hard - and kicked off her heels, walking - no, prowling – toward the bedroom door, not even checking behind her to see if he was following.

Amy didn’t have to check behind her as she strutted toward her room, her body relaxed- she only slightly exaggerated her curves naturally swaying with her stride. The look of shock on Jake was like someone had slapped him in the face- in a very positive and memorable way, judging by the sudden tightness in those pressed suit pants. He bit his lip, smiling, then followed only too eagerly.

*

Her bed was a surprise. Then again, everything about that woman was a surprise. Despite the octogenarian theme that ruled her apartment, the bedspread was decorated in irises with simple white lace. 

She lay on the bed in that red dress- he never understood that TV trope so well until now- and looked up at him. God damn it, there were only so many times she could DO that expression and it would still have exactly the same effect on him. He looked at her, painfully aware of how tight his pants were by this point. Surely it was not possible to get any harder.

Judging by Amy’s smirk, she noticed it too. Finally, her perfect lips broke from a smile to form words. Jake blinked. He had been distracted.

‘Will you do me the honour of unzipping me, Jacob Peralta?’ she said softly, and presented her back.

Amy was thrilled from the confidence afforded by the drinks- she was, in essence, a reliable person and therefore the effects of alcohol were similarly reliable- and while it was working, she couldn’t deny the delicious shiver she felt as Jake slowly unzipped the back of her dress, obviously savouring the moment. She felt his warm hand gently stroke along her spine in a slow motion.

She turned, slid off his suit jacket and began to fumble at the buttons on the light blue collared shirt he was wearing underneath, kissing each spot once the button had been removed. He shuddered a sigh and she felt his warm breath on her face, laced with alcohol and a mint he had obviously surreptitiously eaten recently.

He felt her pause and lifted his head from where he was lying on his back to look at her with those warm, brown puppy eyes. He smiled a Jake-smile that crinkled his eyes and suddenly flung his strong – and surprisingly toned – arms around her, pulling her tight against his bare chest. She gave a little squeak of surprise and let herself be lifted. 

Suddenly, although the air had been so thick with sexual tension just moments before, the two held each other tight with arms wrapped tightly around, rejoicing in the feel of warm skin on another, that electric feel momentarily transformed into a warm glow that warmed them from within. It was the same feeling that had caught them outside in the streets of Brooklyn.

Jake finally broke the peaceful silence between them, his voice low.

‘Ames, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,’ he said, for once candid.

‘Me too,’ she whispered back. 

Her eyes were dark and huge and in the dim lighting, the chocolate of her eyes bled into her dark pupils. They were mesmerising.

Something suddenly changed imperceptibly in those dark eyes and Jake had about a half second warning for what was coming next.

Amy’s dark lips suddenly met his, soft and malleable and even better than he remembered from that stolen moment in the evidence lock up. Her tongue darted out and slowly, sensuously began to work at separating his two lips. Jake could not comply fast enough. His lips responded. Amy’s lips, Amy’s mouth, Amy’s tongue, Amy’s smell… she was all around him. He softly tugged her bottom lip with his teeth and she responded enthusiastically, biting him hard on his lip.

‘Ow!’ Jake complained, then furiously cursed himself internally. Amy stopped immediately.

‘Oh my God, Jake, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I got carried away,’ she began to say, the hungry look on her face instantly evaporating to reveal her usual anxious exterior. 

He lifted one hand in a defensive gesture, the other lightly touching his lip checking for damage. Damn, it was bleeding.

‘Wow, Detective Santiago, you really know how to draw blood. Now, just letting you know that while I am one-hundred - no, two-hundred - no, infinity percent okay with everything you do to me, I can tell you that I am not into vampire roleplaying in any way, shape or form. Plus, I do not work out nearly enough to be stripping my shirt off as much as those werewolf dudes either.’

 

A small smile had returned to her face. Her eyes left his as she stared unabashedly at his chest, the collared shirt fully open. Jake smiled back.

‘So, Peralta, you’re really “infinity percent” okay with me?’ she said coyly, recovering her confidence.

‘Because prepare yourself to be fucked like you’ve never been before.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, smut will be up soon. Got some final editing and a couple hundred more words. Thought I would separate it from this chapter to make you all wait. But not as long as for the next episode of S6.


	3. Title of their sex tape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what this is. SMUUUUUUUUT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first time writing smut. Hope it delivers.

While a second ago, they had been relaxed and warm, the warmth had suddenly caught fire like a bomb exploding. 

Jake tried to sit up to kiss Amy, but she had quickly pressed him down to the bed in a straddle position, sitting on him, her legs wrapped tightly around him. She smirked.

‘Trying to go somewhere, Jake Peralta?’

He tried to reach up to softly touch her face in response, but that smirk widened and she slapped his hands away, quickly tucking them underneath their two bodies so he was immobilised. He was already breathless. Damn, Santiago did like control.

‘Now watch,’ she commanded and slipped the sleeves of the red dress off her shoulders. Jake’s breath caught.

Amy looked at him in a coy smile, noticing how immediately he was hypnotised by her large breasts in a black lacy bra, like a rabbit looking at a snake. 

Fuck! She was wearing that? That had to be the most un-Santiago-like lingerie he had ever seen. He had only seen that on her once- in his many dreams of her where he had woken to a shamefully sticky bed.

Jake’s eyes were so dark with desire that she knew he could not look away. Amy knew her breasts were one of her best physical assets and she was abusing that hold now. 

He moaned softly, biting his lip. She noticed too, how hard he was against her as she sat straddled on him. 

And, how wet she was against him too. 

His eyes left their spot focused her breasts to meet her eyes.

‘I said watch!’ she laughed softly.

He had to be punished for that, he had calculated and yep- here it was.

Amy leaned over him, not budging from that insanely hot position where she sat, grinding into him slightly, until her full breasts were just a couple of inches from his face. Just one inch now. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of that silky black fabric on his face. 

Except it wasn’t coming. When he opened his eyes, Amy was looking at him with a hungry expression and she gently swayed her breasts back and forward in front of his face, so, so insanely close. The swell of her was mesmerising, but it wasn’t as satisfying as before. It was just tantalising.

‘Amy,’ he groaned and begun to beg.

‘Please.’

‘Please what?’ she said innocently, bringing her beautiful breasts even closer.

‘Let me kiss you,’ he begged.

Finally Amy gave in. She scraped her breasts in that ‘special-occasions bra’ over his face, feeling the outline of his face through the thin fabric. She was perfectly content to keep teasing him- she loved the feeling of being in control- but he surprised her.

Seizing his brief chance, Jake grazed the edge of the lace with his teeth and held on to stop the maddening sway taunting him.

Unable to stop herself, Amy ground her breasts into his face.

Jake sighed and finally, his tongue darted out below the lace to trace her hard nipple. She moaned very softly. 

His heart pulsing faster, he licked her nipple again and pushed the rest of his face under her bra, tracing it with his tongue and sucking gently. Amy let out a clearly audible groan.

‘Mmm, Jake…’

His heart was pounding and his head spinning like he was short of oxygen. Fuck, he loved hearing Amy say his name in that quiet, frustrated way. 

His face was fully in her cleavage now, smothering him with Amy. She quickly unfastened her bra and he finally had a moment to look at her. 

Her breasts were smooth as silk and her skin a golden coffee crema colour, her round hard nipples a light brown. She was fucking stunning. He had scarcely a second to relish the view before they were joyously back in his face and he was tasting that soft skin again. He lightly tugged one of her round nipples with his teeth, and Amy felt the electric pain shooting through it in pleasure.

And then Amy made her mistake. 

She was so focused on burying Jake’s face that she leaned forward too far, lifting the pressure from her hips holding him down.

To give Jake his credit, he was an excellent police officer because he instantly took the opportunity to free his hands and wrapped them around her small waist. He had the upper hand now. Gently squeezing her waist, he tugged and pushed her softly until she was rocking back and forward, riding him. There were only three layers of fabric between them.

Doing the same move as before, he used her momentum and tried to quickly move her. But she was ready this time.

‘That’s not working again, Jake Peralta’, she murmered, and began unbuttoning his tan trousers, where he was stretched impossibly tight. Just one layer now.

Amy ripped his pants down and watching his face carefully, slowly began to kiss his stomach, tracing down the thin line of hair that led to that hard bulge. She fucking loved this part. When they had to try and hold back how much they were enjoying this, but that frustration too.

Jake’s breathing was laboured and his pupils wide with longing.

She carefully snapped the band of his underwear and began to kiss along the edge of it, licking just underneath like Jake had done to her breasts. She was dripping. She lightly stroked his hard dick through the last layer of white, teasing, and Jake let out an involuntary whine.

That little sound was all she needed. 

In a sudden but careful motion, she swiftly pulled down the last layer between them, setting him free. 

Somehow- maybe it was because he acted like such an arrogant adolescent at times- she expected him to be overcompensating. She was so glad she was wrong. He was BIG.

 

Locking eyes with him, she licked her lips and begun to slide his huge cock in and out of her mouth. Jake’s face was so fucking hot, he was enjoying this so much. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, a little brown curl loose. 

‘Wow, Ames…’

It was bliss but somehow she stopped with a sucking pop and began licking around the base of his dick. The sudden loss of that pressure was unbearable.

‘Amy, please…’

Her eyes were still dark and bright and she briefly stopped, shaping words again.

‘I’m not - sure – if – you – really – want it enough,’ she murmured, each word punctuated by her sloppily taking him in her mouth. She watched his face carefully, her deep eyes dark and mischievous. 

‘Fuck, Amy, please, I want you to never stop, you’re so good, you’re amazing…’ he ran off in an incoherent stream, just begging her to continue to slide him in and out of her thirsty mouth.

She was incredible, but as the speed increased and her dark head bobbed faster and faster and Jake could feel the wave building up, but then unexpectedly slowly receded as she disappointingly slowed down to a crawl.

‘What do you want from me, Santiago, you fiend?’ he managed weakly.

‘I’ll do anything.’ God, he meant it. He’d do anything for her, sexual or otherwise.

Her smoky eyes were sparked alight.

‘Well, Jacob Peralta, if you did your research, you’d know the art of negotiating hostages is delicate,’ she whispered, bringing her sweet but deadly face close to his pale, sweating one. He was helpless.

She had this. She looked him dead in the eye and tilted her head, letting her eyes fall to his swollen lips. He licked his. She brought her lips closer and kissed him hungrily.

She arched a perfect dark eyebrow.

‘It means that there’s something that you want from me, and something I want from you,’ she challenged, leaning back into the pillows and slowly spreading her long, brown legs wide.

Jake knew he had a one-track mind. His own desires instantly forgotten, he immediately dove between her legs. 

Her black, lacy SO SEXY underwear was dripping wet, but it was not noticed for long, it was removed so fast. 

Amy shuddered as his mouth kissed the inside of her thigh again and again, getting maddeningly closer and closer to where she wanted it to be. He softly kissed just the top of her lips and then his tongue slowly and hesitantly, but deliberately, delved just inside on her clit. She gasped.

It acted as a stimulant, because he swirled his tongue around and around in intricate and intimate ways, orbiting that perfect place, but SO maddeningly close. The frustration bubbled up into words.

‘FUCK you, Peralta, you know exactly what you’re doing, you bastard,’ she cursed. Somehow, she didn’t think the message came across as strongly as she meant when she was lying on her back, her hair streaming down her back, sweaty and messy, gasping up at the ceiling.

Jake laughed, his mouth still unable to make coherent sounds from its current placement in Amy. He loved making Amy swear. It was so unlike her to lose control. 

He decided to goad her. He needed that.

‘”You know exactly what you’re doing”, title of your sex tape,’ he said in a low voice, and continued circling her clit with his tongue. She moaned. 

‘Jake,’ she begged. Her turn to beg.

It was time for him to turn on the big guns. Delicately, he slowed his tongue into a spiral that finished just on her clit. And slowly continued circling that spot, indulging her and allowing her that spot at the end of each circle. Reading her frantic breathing, he slowly sped up and increased the pressure. She was fully panting now.

‘Ohh, fuck, Jake Peralta, you can’t fucking do that so well, ohh…’ 

She could feel the waves starting to build from that spot, like the beach where the waves come larger and larger, radiating out to wash over her body. Her body was getting lighter and lighter and it felt like she was beginning to rise out of the mattress. Still those circles, that soft wetness drove around and around, tighter and tighter until it was unbearable. 

Suddenly it was like cold water had been thrown over her, because she was filled with cold dizziness as that pressure was suddenly gone. 

Instead of buried in her pussy, Jake’s face was suddenly smirking right in her face, full of revenge.

‘Two can play at this game, Santiago,’ he teased. She knew he was paying for depriving him before.

‘No, no, no,’ she all but cried and pushed his head back down in frustration.

‘I don’t care Jake, you win, I’m weak, please please please just… OH…’

The circles continued in tight little spirals until the waves built up just as quickly as they’d dissipated and were threatening to crash. It was so tight now that there was nothing left in her except pleasure.

‘Fuck, Jake, Jake, Jake, Jake…’ she begged again and again until the waves spilt over.

She was floating in sheer ecstasy, her entire world reduced to a blank, wordless, indescribable buzzing white noise of pure fucking pleasure that flooded her entire being. Ten seconds later, she dimly registered that she was contracting, again and again around Jake’s long fingers while his head was firmly between her legs.

Fuck, this is how he wanted to go. Eating out the beautiful pussy of the woman he loved, her long legs squeezed tightly around his head until he was smothered and trapped in place, almost passed out from lack of air, forced to drown in that beautiful, hot, wet darkness. He could smell her cum and feeling her contractions slowly subside, he slowly kissed her once more reassuringly, soft and sweet.

He wriggled up beside her, as she sighed, closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. He smiled as they gently leaned in for that sloppy, satisfying kiss when they could both taste Amy. Other girls found it disgusting – hypocritical much? – but Amy always loved it. It always reminded her of how incredible those moments that just happened were- and how devoted Jake was to her pleasure. And that was just the first time. She opened her eyes finally and met his warm smile, his eyes crinkled that way they always did when they looked at her, a look she had noticed more and more often over the last few months.

‘Jake Peralta… that… was the best oral I’ve ever had,’ she managed, weakly, still trembling in his arms.

He gleefully opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.

‘ - Title of my sex tape, yes, but I don’t care. I’m just so happy I’m here with you.’ 

His warm eyes were soft and sincere. 

‘Me too, Ames.’

A long moment- filled with Amy’s slowing breathing- passed and he gently leaned down to kiss her perfect mouth.  
Amy was finished. Spent. So completely exhausted. But somehow, as soon as his soft lips touched hers again, the incessant need for him returned. The fire in the depths of her belly, calling out for more.

She kissed him back, slowly at first, then faster and greedier, sloppily.

‘I believe there’s something I can do for you,’ she whispered.

Jake’s eyes were wide and hungry. 

Slowly, she straddled him again and began grinding slowly- even now, still teasing him!

Jake’s eyes flashed and she could’ve sworn he actually growled. 

‘Enough Santiago!’ he said. She retreated with false meekness and gazed up at him with innocent eyes.

‘Jake… I’m ready for you to fuck me,’ she whined coyly.

‘You were so well-behaved before, following all my rules… and good boys deserve reward. Have me any way you want. I want it any way you do,’ she whispered into his ear, nibbling his earlobe.

Fuck, this was it. 

Jake groaned and finally slid his dick deep into Amy’s tight grasp.

Fuckkkkk.

It was all he could to not come right there- ten years younger and he definitely would have- he had waited so long for this. First in his imagination, then from her maddening but incredibly sexy control over him. Yes, he was whipped. Yes, he loved being told what to do (which actually made absolutely zero sense considering his disregard for authority). But he was a rule breaker and fucking Amy in all the ways she didn’t expect was the best way to break all the rules. 

He flipped her over into missionary. Amy gasped. Jake pounded into her again and again, his girth filling her and hitting the spot, again and again and again. The slap of their bodies and the creaking of the bed was the only other sounds, but he could only hear Amy’s moans.

‘Yes, yes, yes… fuck me Jake Peralta… that’s it… oh, again and again,’ she muttered incomprehensibly, but Jake caught every word.

It came on him suddenly as they moved position again and again, exploring new angles, new pieces of furniture to fuck against, new ways to make her cry out his name until it was unbearable. 

The rhythm had reached a crescendo. Jake was dripping with sweat and Amy’s hair was stuck slick against her neck, but they were beyond caring. Nothing existed but each other.

 

Jake felt it mounting up suddenly and just as suddenly, he was shouting, he dimly realised.

 

‘Jake, Jake, Jake – ‘

‘- FUCK, Amy, oh god, you’re so fucking beautiful…’

‘Oh, Jake, come in me, I’m safe, I’ve got the bar, you can, you can…’

‘Ames…’ he managed briefly before feeling the tension and self-control spasm out of him deep inside her as he came. At the sound of his nickname for her, she let herself go too.

They both lay there, panting, revelling in the feel of the other as close as possible to be, in her, him within her, as close as two people could be one. Neither was willing to move.

Several long minutes later, Jake slowly slid out of Amy, both of them savouring the ache.

They gently shifted position until they were spooning, Amy tucked tightly into Jake’s body, his strong arms circled around her, never letting go. His smile stretched wider than she believed possible as he held her, resting his head on her shoulder in that puppy-like way of his.

She snuggled closer and closer into his chest, pushing him back further until he almost fell off the bed. Both of them laughed and cuddled tighter. Ten minutes must have passed before they spoke, just savouring being in each others’ arms.

‘So we broke a rule,’ Jake finally said, the first words spoken since that momentous ‘Ames’. 

Amy blushed. 

‘Yeah… I hope it wasn’t a mistake,’ she replied nervously, smiling back at him.

‘ “Hope it wasn’t a mistake”, title of your sex tape,’ he instantly quipped. 

A look of comprehension dawned on his face. Amy could barely hold back a giggle. Jake gasped. 

‘Title of OUR sex tape!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends this smutty chapter! Please let me know what you thought and leave a kudos and comment!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm happy to leave this as a one-shot, or follow up with a smutty second chapter. Will take feedback to make a decision on this! This is my first fanfiction here- please leave me feedback, especially regarding character portrayal.


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